


Exsoporata

by tanaleth (elavellan)



Series: Immutable [3]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship, Blood Magic (Dragon Age), Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fenris in Dragon Age: Inquisition, Kirkwall (Dragon Age), Mage Surana (Dragon Age), Mage-Templar War (Dragon Age), No Smut, Rite of Tranquility, Tevinter Culture and Customs, Tevinter Imperium (Dragon Age), Tranquil Mages, Tranquil Surana (Dragon Age), Venatori
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-10-14 17:57:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20604944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elavellan/pseuds/tanaleth
Summary: Neria Surana spent her life playing by the rules. It suited her well enough to go to the Circle. The walls of the alienage had never felt constricting, but she’d never much wanted the life of a typical elven woman anyhow. She’d only ever wanted to learn, to read and study and figure out how the world worked, and the Circle seemed like a blessing... for a while.Now, after twelve years of Tranquility, Neria is done with rules and restraint. She feels everything. Most of all, she feels anger: anger at the Circle that took so much from her and anger at the Inquisition that healed her. When she travels north seeking a fresh start, she meets a man named Fenris whose history is as improbable as her own.(This fic makes reference to the events ofSee Fire and Go Towards Lightbut can be read alone.)





	Exsoporata

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kicking this off with a short prologue and some art. Hope you enjoy!

Neria watched Ferelden recede over the stern until it was little more than a gray cloud on the southern horizon, indistinguishable from the clouds above. Not pleasant weather for sailing, but you couldn't be picky this time of year. 

She glanced at the setting sun and tightened the heavy wool shawl over her shoulders. It was already cold. And after two nights on this ship she knew it would grow colder still, a clammy and biting cold like needles that cut through cloth and skin alike. She'd experienced worse last winter as she'd made her way to Skyhold, though it hadn't bothered her half as much back then.

Things were different now. 

She'd joined the Inquisition because it seemed the most practical thing to do. She’d set out on _this _journey because she’d wanted to, even if it seemed like folly. It was her decision. The destination hardly mattered as long as it was away from Ferelden.

Having had two days to think it over, now, she’d started to consider just how much folly it might be. She didn't plan to stay long, but even to enter the city of the Gallows and the mage uprising… well. The best-known of the uprisings. There had been many in the last twelve years, and Kirkwall's hadn't been the first.

Rumors of trouble at Ferelden's Circle had reached Montsimmard shortly after Neria’s arrival. The reality of Uldred’s plot wasn’t shared with the Tranquil, but no one bothered to keep it from them, either. Neria could even recall a low-voiced conversation in the library between the First Enchanter and the Knight-Commander. She'd walked away to shelve a book even as they listed the names of the dead. She hadn't cared.

So she didn't know how many of her acquaintances from Kinloch Hold were still alive. It couldn't be many. Minaeve, perhaps; Neria vaguely remembered a tiny elven girl with enormous green eyes who’d hardly spoken to any of the other apprentices. Not unusual, especially for a new arrival—yes, that must have been Minaeve. Jowan might be alive somewhere, although Neria rather doubted it. Anders—who knew?

And there was Cullen, of course.

_Fuck Cullen._

She wrenched her thoughts away from Circles and back to the journey at hand. The sea was less restless than it had been earlier in the day, and the ship cut quietly through the water with only a faint lap of the waves against the hull and creak of the rigging.

The thing that struck her as they'd sailed through the Amaranthine Strait and along the coast had been how _fast _the ship moved. The captain told Neria it wasn't an especially swift boat, but it still moved quicker than any horse or carriage, quicker than a rowboat—at least, when it was actually moving. There had been innumerable delays in Amaranthine while the crew loaded and unloaded cargo, while they shouted back and forth about Maker-knew-what, and Neria could have clawed at the deck in her frustration.

Now they were on the open sea. Her relief to be moving tangled with a hint of... something else. Not seasickness. Nerves? Excitement? It was something new to be flying along with sails set and no sight of land however she squinted. The wind nipped at her face and blew her hair out of her eyes. Cold be damned. This was the Waking Sea—and for the first time in a long time, Neria felt truly awake.

"It's something, isn't it?"

The dry voice came from somewhere near her elbow. Neria looked down to see a redheaded dwarf standing at her side. He stepped forward and leaned against the rail, peering down at their wake. "Give it another day and you'll be able to see the north coast. But for now, it's just us and the sea."

"You've made this trip before?"

"Once or twice. Not a frequent visitor to Ferelden, but I had some business there." He shrugged. 

"What _is _your business, Master Tethras?"

"Books, mage girl." Varric grinned up at her. "Books."

"Hmm," was all she said.

Neria wasn't quite sure what to make of the dwarven man. He'd been one of the Inquisitor's companions, she knew for certain, but he seemed to have had a hand in all the major events of the world since the Blight. And he knew someone everywhere. It didn't make her uneasy, exactly, just uncertain what to make of him.

For all Neria's impatience to leave the past behind her... as the sky darkened around them to the faintest glimmer of stars, some part of her was relieved by the presence of even a vaguely familiar person. Even a person who knew who and what she was.

She could take care of herself, of course. Even without a staff, she'd proven herself more than once. So she wasn't _afraid _to be traveling alone. 

Was she?

* * *

Releasing his grasp on the windowsill, Fenris landed behind the guardswoman as silently as he could manage. It wasn't very silent, but that became irrelevant when he ripped the woman's throat out with a casual movement of his bare hands. She went down with little more than a gurgle.

Fenris stepped out of the way of the twitching corpse without lingering to inspect the sight. He did, however, make a mental note to inform Aveline that one of the guard had chosen to supplement her pay with a side job. Given the nature of the side job, a summary execution was kinder than the dead woman deserved.

Wiping his hands on his trousers—what was one more bloodstain?—he slipped out of the alley and back into the streets of Lowtown just as the sky began to lighten.

Sooner or later he'd land himself in real trouble doing this on his own. But it would be worth it. 

* * *

“Passengers, ready to disembark!”

Neria stared at the gate. The sun was in her eyes, but her feet seemed rooted to the deck. 

It was strange to struggle with her own willpower. All those years she hadn't had a thought of performing anything other than the most logical task, one step after another, before turning in for a dreamless sleep.

That was the bitterest truth about Tranquility. It wasn't that she'd had no will: it was that her own will had been turned against her. She'd _wanted _to perform the tasks she was set.

Well, no longer. She was free. Her mind was her own, however the voices might hiss otherwise. And she'd come this far already.

Neria Surana adjusted the hood of her cloak, tightened the strap of her satchel, and descended into the roaring, stinking hubbub that was Kirkwall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, we'll see more sides of Fenris than that. Eventually. (Soon?)

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't read my first fic, Neria's early backstory is given in [this chapter](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15564153/chapters/43288499) and she enters the narrative proper in Chapter 38. 
> 
> This story begins in early 9:43 Dragon.


End file.
